Trifles
by M. K. Dobe
Summary: Written in the character's dialect give depth & puts the reader in the time & place of the story. After Minnie Wright is imprisoned, accused of murdering her husband, she reveals her thoughts & motives in a diary she begins with the pen & paper given to her by her neighbors, Mrs. Peters, & Mrs. Hale.


The Diary of Minnie Wright

By M. K. Dobe

From "Trifles," by Susan Glaspell

I am so thankful to Mrs. Peters fer her bein' so kind to me while I'm here awaitin' my trial. She's a good woman, she is, even though she's married to the Sheriff. She seems to understand me. She was awful patient with me when I got frightened of her cat the other night. But it seems to me that ever since she brought me my things she's been even kinder to me, and I don't know why. I don't hardly know her and never even met her till I was brought here the other day by her husband. But she treats like kin more than criminal an' fer that I'm grateful as can be. She even brought me my quilt that I was piecin'. It's a pretty log cabin pattern that I was knottin', but I guess I kinda messed it up when I got to thinkin' too much…. Well, anyway, looks like someone musta fixed it up 'cause it ain't messy like I remembered it. Course, I didn't care how it looked no more an' I didn't expect 'em to bring that. But sure enough she an' the other lady with her, my neighbor and long ago friend, Mrs. Hale, brought me all this stuff, includin' this pen an' paper.

An' my fruit didn't freeze, thank the Lord. I was so afraid it would with the fire out an' all an' me not there to tend it, to keep it burnin' as I always did. God knows John never tended that darn thing. He never did nothin' but work in the fields then expect me to fetch an' run fer him all the day long. Why he never even appreciated those preserves I worked so hard in the hot summer to make. An' not havin' no children made it so lonely an' still there in that old farm house. But I did what I could fer him an' tried to make a nice home fer him. You'd a thought he woulda been a little bit nicer to me fer all that. I never asked fer much, not even conversation from him. No, I gave that up long ago. I noticed early in our life together that he weren't one to talk much. He didn't like much noise at all, 'specially conversation. He said all he ever wanted was peace an' quiet. Well, I think it can be peaceful ev'n if you're havin' conversation, but John didn't seem to think so. He was close. I knew he wouldn't o' been interested in that party telephone thing that Mr. Hale wanted him to go in on. Why, he'd asked him about it once before an' John had said no to it then. I don't know why Mr. Hale thought to try an' ask him again. An' even though I thought it woulda been a good idea to be able to talk to the neighbors now an' then, John just shook his dadburned head an' said, "No!" An' that was that. Whatever I wanted never mattered much to him now did it? He was so mean to me. I remember when I was Minnie Foster, before I met John. I used to make myself look so pretty an' dress up in my white dress with the blue ribbons like all the other town girls an' people applauded whenever I sang in the choir an' I felt like a movie star.

But then he came along an' swept me off my feet. I can't remember now fer the life o' me why I fell fer him, but I did. I guess I was just too timid to think anyone else would ever take a likin' to me an' I got to thinkin' I might never git married unless I married him. But it didn't take long fer me to realize I'd made a mistake, the biggest mistake o' my life. He was a good man, I s'pose, in some ways, an ' maybe that's what I fell for. I mean, he didn't drink or nothin' like that. He paid the bills an' kept a roof over our heads, sure enough. An' everyone knew he kept his word. But he was a hard man. It was hard just to pass the time with him. An' there I was married to the bastard. What was I gonna do? Anything I ever liked he put a stoppin' to. Once we were married he said he didn't want no wife o' his goin' out on the town an 'havin' other men lookin' at her an' watchin' her an 'hearin' her sing. He said it gets 'em to thinkin' 'bout things although he never did tell me what. An' after while all my pretty clothes either I outgrew or they fell apart from moths eatin' 'em just like my soul began to feel like it was fallen apart an' moth-eaten.

It didn't matter 'bout my clothes anyway. I never had anywhere to go anymore. Lord knows we never went out visitin' people. We never went to the fairs or to church or to town meetin's like the other folks did. I woulda liked to have done those things now an' then, maybe even to have joined the Ladies' Aid. But I started lookin' so shabby after while. Since John wouldn't let me buy no new clothes I had to make my own. I woulda liked to have seen my old friends like Mrs. Hale in spite o' how I looked. Maybe I shoulda gone over an' seen her more but I always thought she might be busy, what with the kids an' all. So after a time she an' I just grew apart. I guess that happens when you're married to someone you love an' have kids an' all. Somethin' I never had. _Never had!_ It got to be so lonely there all day in that farm house down in the hollow, far away from the road an' from everyone an' everything that sometimes I felt like the world fergot about me. There was such a stillness to my life an' my home.

Then one day last year that nice man, Derrick, came by from outa town sellin' them canaries. There I was bakin' bread as usual in my apron, the one I wore every day, an' lookin' like a mess with flour all over the front o' me. But he treated me like a lady, just the same. He said I looked pretty an' like I musta made a very nice wife an' mother to my family. An' he an' I, we had a nice talk. He treated me so nice I had to tell him I didn't have no kids. An' I guess I musta shivered when I said that 'cause then he fetched my shawl that always hung behind the stair door in the kitchen an put it over my shoulders so nice an' gentle as he said, "Well, a fine woman like you, you oughta!" I wore that same apron an' shawl every day since then 'cause they reminded me o' him an' made me feel like the woman he said I was. Lord knows I didn't have no pretty clothes no more an' no one to tell me I was pretty. But this apron an' shawl, well they was like my princess dress that I wore when my prince, Derrick, came to see me that day.

I'm so glad Mrs. Peters an' Mrs. Hale were able to bring them to me, too. I was wearin' the apron the day Mr. Hale came over an' found John dead. I guess I wasn't too hospitable to Mr. Hale that mornin', but I couldn't help thinkin' that now that John was outa my life maybe I could find Derrick again an' him an' me could make a life together. Just thinkin o' him made me smile. Mr. Hale musta thought I was actin' awful queer. But I just kept thinkin' o' Derrick an' how he said I looked so pretty in my apron. An' then I thought about how I was goin' to break it to him that our little child, his an' mine-'cause that's how I came to see my little bird, like it was the offspring o' our relationship—was dead. An' them birds he brought, they were all so pretty, ever' one of 'em, I had a hard time choosin'. All of a sudden, seemed like my opinion mattered to someone an' I guess that was why I took so long in pickin' out a bird. Seemed like an important decision. Seems to me I took a longer time choosin' a bird than I did a husband. But I didn't want Derrick to leave none too soon either, with John gone to town that day sellin' some produce an' Derrick's company bein' such a refreshin' change. Then I found one that sang real pretty. Reminded me of when I used to sing. He was even dressed all pretty like I used to in his yellow feathers. I even got me one of those nice cages Derrick was sellin' that looked kinda like log cabins, like the kind he said he used to live in. My bird needed a nice home. Lucky fer me Derrick seemed to take a likin' to me too 'cause he let me have the bird an' the cage in exchange fer some o' my preserves instead o' cash. Said he liked fruit preserves better'n anything else. An' John didn't much mind me givin' over my preserves. He never cared for 'em. Otherwise I'd a had a hard time explainin' to him where I got the money fer such a stupid thing as a dadburned bird like he used to call my little Derrick, Jr. I don't think he ever even knew what I named him. I guess that was a good thing.

Anyway, after that, Derrick left an' all I had to remind me of him was my dear little bird. He was such a nice man an' handsome too. He musta knew I kinda liked him, musta seen it in my eyes, 'cause later in the year he stopped by again an' this time he was sellin' those pretty silk boxes. I told him I couldn't afford one. But when he saw how much I liked 'em he let me have one fer another couple jars o' my preserves, just the same as he did before, like he wanted me to have somethin' special. Course, I had to keep that hidden from John in my sewin' basket 'cause I didn't wanna listen to him givin' me hell askin' how I paid fer it an' all, an' what did I need a dumb thing like that fer even if I did exchange more preserves fer it, when he let me keep the bird an' the cage, an' that was enough unnecessary stuff fer anyone an' he worked so hard to earn his money an' keep a roof over my head like I was the only one livin' there, even though that's what it felt like. I knew he'd never look in my sewin' basket fer nothin'. He didn't have nice things to say 'bout my sewin' either. Said it always looked like just a bunch o' knots to him. Said I was good at knottin' things up around here. Guess he was right about that, wasn't he?

An' I haven't seen Derrick since that last time. I kept hopin' he'd be stoppin' by again real soon sellin' somethin' else an' we could have a nice talk again. Some nights—I ain't never told nobody this—after John would roll off top o' me an' fall fast asleep, an' leave me havin' to grope myself fer pleasure since he never gave it to me hisself—said a woman ain't s'posed to enjoy it like a man—I would think o' Derrick an touch myself down there, an' it wouldn't take long fer me to feel what I never felt with John. Then I could fall fast asleep with sweet dreams on my mind. In the mornin' when I woke up there would be my little canary, Derrick Jr. singin' sweetly to me like the product of our wonderful love-makin'.

Why it felt that same way that mornin', _that awful mornin'! _There I was, havin' had a night with Derrick in my mind after John did his thing with me. An' there I was next mornin' in the kitchen hearin' Derrick, Jr. singin' like the cry of a newborn baby as if he'd been born fer the first time again to me an' Derrick. I was wearin' my princess apron an' shawl an' I had bread set again ready to put in the breadbox as soon as I got the rest o' the kitchen tidied up. As I was wipin' the table off it felt just like it did that first day Derrick came to me. It was such a lovely mornin' an' I was feelin' good an' cheerful with Derrick, Jr. there now. He cheered my little kitchen up, he did. He made it like a child was there an' he sang to me like I used to sing an' he talked to me like John never did. It wasn't still in our house no more, that is, until that moment. I don't know why John got so upset at his singin' but he did. How could he do that to my little Derrick, Jr. an' his little log cabin home? _How could he do that!?_

Well, I never did get the bread set or the kitchen cleaned up. It didn't seem to matter no more. Nothin' mattered no more. 'cept I had to give Derrick, Jr. a proper burial. He needed a nice coffin, too. An' that nice silk box from Derrick was just the thing to give Derrick, Jr. the honor he deserved. I knew Derrick would understand. He woulda wanted me to bury our child in that. But then just the thought of puttin' my sweet little Derrick, Jr. in the ground was too much fer me so I kept him nice an' safe inside that box inside my sewin' basket or John woulda made me get rid of him right away sayin' he was just a dead bird now an' why did I care. An' I couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout what that man did to me this time. An' I thought about Derrick an' how he would understand why I was so upset. To settle my mind I decided I would finish our log cabin pattern, the house that Derrick an' me would live in one day, like the kind he grew up in, an' we would have another Derrick, Jr. an' things would be okay again. But I still couldn't stop thinkin' o' that evil husband o' mine an' how the house was so still again. There was no Derrick, Jr. singin' no more. _How could he!?_ I knew John had that rope out in the shed an' I didn't care what no one said. He said I was good fer nothin' but knottin' things up around here anyway.

I sure wish I could see Derrick again. I wish he would come by again. I'm sure glad my preserves didn't freeze 'cause when he comes again I'll still have somethin' to give him fer whatever he brings to give me. He liked my preserves. An' Derrick would think I did a fine job o' kottin' things up the way I did.


End file.
